There are times, truly, where I learn way too much about my kids.
That may seem odd, seeing as I have many of these kids for just a few days at a time, but I almost feel like a bartender...I'm there, it's a quiet environment, it's a perfect place to spill your guts. A lot of times, it's a good thing. I can do some counseling, we can talk about why the kids keeps making bad choices, and talk about goals. Other times, I'd rather not know what they're telling me.
So this week I had a return visitor, except this was his first time this year. He'd rocked 8th grade after falling apart - he ended up in alternative school - in seventh grade. Grades were excellent, he was in advanced classes, he'd grown up. It was nice to see that Brainy Boy was doing well.
Except maybe he'd grown up a bit too much.
It was after lunch and I was going through some of the work that the kids were turning in. I check it to see if it's complete, spot check for accuracy, and either check it off and put it in the basket to return to the teachers, or give it back to be completed/redone.
One of my kids was not completing his work. He kept turning in assignments that were either incomplete with blank pages, or completely wrong. Everything he turned in had to go back to be redone. So he was stomping, and fussing, and basically having a whining fit and the other kids were getting annoyed.
"Oh get over yourself", said Brainy Boy. "You think your life is so tough."
"Oh but it isssss!" whined The Whiner "This stuff is soooo hard!"
"You don't know what stress is," says Brainy Boy. "Seventh grade work is not stressful."
"You don't understannnnndddd,' whines The Whiner. "It's haaaard."
At this point, Brainy Boy dropped his bomb. "Oh stop freaking whining. You don't know stress. You want to know what's stressful? You want to know the kind of stress I've been going through? I'm in 8th grade and I just got my girlfriend pregnant! Now that's stress!"
Well then.
You could have heard a pin drop in that room. (I might add it was all boys that day which may have been why he felt comfortable enough to say what he said.)
Whiney Boy's jaw dropped for a moment, he sucked air, then it his mouth closed, he went back to his seat and we didn't hear a word from him the rest of the day.
Algebra Kid, Brainy Boy's best bud and partner in crime (they had done something in their Algebra class to end up with me), gave him a sympathetic look.
"Man, you really didn't need to tell everyone that," he said. "But you do have a point."
"Yeah, I know," said Brainy Boy. "But damn, his whining just pissed me off."
And with that, they went back to their graphing calculators and worked on their Algebra.
Tuesday, March 21, 2017
Tuesday, March 14, 2017
When You Just Don't Want to Get Out of the Car
Since January I've seen a lot of sixth graders start to morph into seventh graders. In other words, perfectly good kids I've never seen before got hit by the hormone hammer and start showing up in my room, and showing up a lot.
Brat Boy is one of them. Kid never crossed my radar until January and then it was like he was in my room every single week. It wasn't for the same thing either. One week it was disrespect. Another week it was disruption. And even another was for physical aggression. In other words he was a hot mess. But, from what his teachers told me, he was a bit of a spoiled brat. Mom excused his behavior and pretty much let him run the household. Dad, on the other hand, wasn't buying it. And, you guessed it, Dad and Mom are divorced (or divorcing...I never could get a straight answer on that), so Brat Boy lives with mom - and gets his way in everything - but it takes Dad to straighten him out.
This is not a good combination. Usually when kids have a total reversal of behavior we know something is going on at home, and often it's issues with the parents. Whatever the reason, he was having a pretty serious meltdown as we headed towards Spring. I never really had an issue with him - he seemed to like the quiet and would do his work and not cause any trouble for the most part. But the fact that he kept turning up in my room was not a good sign.
So, yet again, he was scheduled to be in my room for a few days, which wasn't much of a surprise. And I marked him absent because he didn't show up. Not unusual with the illnesses we've had racing through the schools this year. But then I got a phone call from the attendance secretary.
"Hi I wanted you to know that Brat Boy is here, but he's not getting out of the car," she said.
"What do you mean he's not getting out of the car?" I asked.
"Well his mom brought him to school and he's refusing to get out of the car. He actually did this yesterday too, but Coach Cool was able to talk him into getting out and coming to school," she said.
"You're kidding, right?" I said.
"Nope, this is becoming a regular routine with him," she said.
Oh my. One of the funniest stories my mom ever told me about going to school - in a one room school house on the Kansas plains, no less - was about a kid who crawled up in the back window of his mom's car and refused to get out. That image has stuck with her for over 70 years! And now it was happening again in our front parking lot!
About an hour later I got another phone call from the front office. "Brat Boy is going to spend ISS up here in the front office," she said. "They're afraid that he might make a break for it if he's out in your portable."
"Good thinking," I said - which was true. Finally - finally! - someone realized that putting kids who threaten to run away out in a portable was not smart. Since we actually walk outside several times a day to go in for bathroom breaks and lunch, it wouldn't be that difficult to make a run for it. And I'm not chasing anyone down.
"I'll send his work up front then," I said, and then emailed his teachers letting them know what was up.
From what I was told, this has become nearly a regular routine with Brat Boy. He does not want to be at school. What he does want (and oftentimes gets if you look at the attendance report) is to stay home and play video games. Several times he was able to be talked out of the car by Coach Cool, but apparently this incident was different. Coach Cool was getting nowhere. Mom was getting nowhere. So, they ended up calling in Dad.
And Dad came. And within two minutes, Brat Boy was out of the car and in the office.
Amazing what Brat Boy could do when properly motivated.
Brat Boy is one of them. Kid never crossed my radar until January and then it was like he was in my room every single week. It wasn't for the same thing either. One week it was disrespect. Another week it was disruption. And even another was for physical aggression. In other words he was a hot mess. But, from what his teachers told me, he was a bit of a spoiled brat. Mom excused his behavior and pretty much let him run the household. Dad, on the other hand, wasn't buying it. And, you guessed it, Dad and Mom are divorced (or divorcing...I never could get a straight answer on that), so Brat Boy lives with mom - and gets his way in everything - but it takes Dad to straighten him out.
This is not a good combination. Usually when kids have a total reversal of behavior we know something is going on at home, and often it's issues with the parents. Whatever the reason, he was having a pretty serious meltdown as we headed towards Spring. I never really had an issue with him - he seemed to like the quiet and would do his work and not cause any trouble for the most part. But the fact that he kept turning up in my room was not a good sign.
So, yet again, he was scheduled to be in my room for a few days, which wasn't much of a surprise. And I marked him absent because he didn't show up. Not unusual with the illnesses we've had racing through the schools this year. But then I got a phone call from the attendance secretary.
"Hi I wanted you to know that Brat Boy is here, but he's not getting out of the car," she said.
"What do you mean he's not getting out of the car?" I asked.
"Well his mom brought him to school and he's refusing to get out of the car. He actually did this yesterday too, but Coach Cool was able to talk him into getting out and coming to school," she said.
"You're kidding, right?" I said.
"Nope, this is becoming a regular routine with him," she said.
Oh my. One of the funniest stories my mom ever told me about going to school - in a one room school house on the Kansas plains, no less - was about a kid who crawled up in the back window of his mom's car and refused to get out. That image has stuck with her for over 70 years! And now it was happening again in our front parking lot!
About an hour later I got another phone call from the front office. "Brat Boy is going to spend ISS up here in the front office," she said. "They're afraid that he might make a break for it if he's out in your portable."
"Good thinking," I said - which was true. Finally - finally! - someone realized that putting kids who threaten to run away out in a portable was not smart. Since we actually walk outside several times a day to go in for bathroom breaks and lunch, it wouldn't be that difficult to make a run for it. And I'm not chasing anyone down.
"I'll send his work up front then," I said, and then emailed his teachers letting them know what was up.
From what I was told, this has become nearly a regular routine with Brat Boy. He does not want to be at school. What he does want (and oftentimes gets if you look at the attendance report) is to stay home and play video games. Several times he was able to be talked out of the car by Coach Cool, but apparently this incident was different. Coach Cool was getting nowhere. Mom was getting nowhere. So, they ended up calling in Dad.
And Dad came. And within two minutes, Brat Boy was out of the car and in the office.
Amazing what Brat Boy could do when properly motivated.
Sunday, March 05, 2017
Wednesday, March 01, 2017
Communication Quandry
The other day I got a phone call from one of the administrators about a kid she was going to put in my room for the following day. As usual she told me his name, and for how many days she wanted him to stay in ISS. Then she paused.
"I think you need to know that he doesn't speak English," she said.
Oh. Really.
"He doesn't?" I ask. "Where is he from?"
"He's from the Dominican Republic. He speaks Spanish. The Aide, Mrs. Multi-Lingual, is going to come out with him, sort of get him started and then he should be good the rest of the day," she said.
"Just curious," I said, "but what did he do to get out here?"
"Oh, he cursed out his ESL teacher in Spanish. Apparently he didn't like his assignment and got a bit irate."
Oh this is just wonderful.
I grew up in Los Angeles, took Spanish in middle and high school, and at one time did okay with it. But that was a long time ago, and I wasn't going to get very far with what remained of my Spanish skills. And this kid apparently has quite the colorful vocabulary.
So I asked my husband to tell me all the Spanish curse words he knew and that he thought an 8th grade boy would use if he got mad at me. Because my husband spent part of his youth (about five years) living in Lima, Peru and is still pretty darn fluent. He comes in handy at times.
I was ready to go the next morning.
Curse Boy arrived, as promised, with Mrs. Multi-Lingual who translated and got him started after I did my new kid orientation. He spends a lot of his time working on Rosetta stone on a laptop (which he brought with him) and he has a Kindle that he uses to translate, so aside from a math assignment and some science, he pretty much sat and did his computer work.
At one point he came up to me, handed me the Kindle and I could read "I need glue and scissors," that he had written in Spanish and it translated it into English for my benefit.
Okay, that was pretty cool.
During the afternoon he walked up, handed me the Kindle and I read, "I am finished with my work."
Okay, I thought...the kid isn't a whiz bang with English at this point, but he seems to get numbers. So I got him on Reflex Math and he happily spent the last hour doing math fluency games.
He was the model student. Didn't make a peep. Stayed in his seat and did his work.
I'd take him back anytime. As long as he has the Kindle. Or I can get my husband to follow me to work one day!
"I think you need to know that he doesn't speak English," she said.
Oh. Really.
"He doesn't?" I ask. "Where is he from?"
"He's from the Dominican Republic. He speaks Spanish. The Aide, Mrs. Multi-Lingual, is going to come out with him, sort of get him started and then he should be good the rest of the day," she said.
"Just curious," I said, "but what did he do to get out here?"
"Oh, he cursed out his ESL teacher in Spanish. Apparently he didn't like his assignment and got a bit irate."
Oh this is just wonderful.
I grew up in Los Angeles, took Spanish in middle and high school, and at one time did okay with it. But that was a long time ago, and I wasn't going to get very far with what remained of my Spanish skills. And this kid apparently has quite the colorful vocabulary.
So I asked my husband to tell me all the Spanish curse words he knew and that he thought an 8th grade boy would use if he got mad at me. Because my husband spent part of his youth (about five years) living in Lima, Peru and is still pretty darn fluent. He comes in handy at times.
I was ready to go the next morning.
Curse Boy arrived, as promised, with Mrs. Multi-Lingual who translated and got him started after I did my new kid orientation. He spends a lot of his time working on Rosetta stone on a laptop (which he brought with him) and he has a Kindle that he uses to translate, so aside from a math assignment and some science, he pretty much sat and did his computer work.
At one point he came up to me, handed me the Kindle and I could read "I need glue and scissors," that he had written in Spanish and it translated it into English for my benefit.
Okay, that was pretty cool.
During the afternoon he walked up, handed me the Kindle and I read, "I am finished with my work."
Okay, I thought...the kid isn't a whiz bang with English at this point, but he seems to get numbers. So I got him on Reflex Math and he happily spent the last hour doing math fluency games.
He was the model student. Didn't make a peep. Stayed in his seat and did his work.
I'd take him back anytime. As long as he has the Kindle. Or I can get my husband to follow me to work one day!
Saturday, February 11, 2017
Hack. Cough. Blech.
So it appears that just about our entire state has the flu, strep, cold, or a stomach virus. You know those flu maps they do on The Weather Channel? Well, we're right smack in the middle of it.
And if that doesn't tell you something, the fact that 15 districts around us were closed part of last week due to illness should.
Notice I said "districts around us"? We aren't closed.
That's not to say we haven't been hit and hit hard. Although my building hasn't been hit hard with student absences, we have had a lot of faculty and staff down for the count. From teachers, to bus drivers, to administrators, to guidance, we're hacking and coughing, and generally dropping like flies. I was sick last week myself, but not bad enough to take a day off. And since we're pretty much short of substitute teachers, even if I did take off, they'd most likely just shut down ISS and let the kids serve the time when I return. It's that bad.
Some of the other buildings not only have a lot of sick staff, but the kids are out too. Classes with ten kids are being supervised by custodians and cafeteria workers because there's no one left. Buses are being driven by mechanics and anyone they can find. We've had trouble with all our buses even showing up to pick up kids in the afternoon because they're so short drivers.
But we are still open. Why? Because we haven't - district-wide - hit the magic number of 17% absent. Some schools may have 30% while others have 5%. Whatever. It's not working out to be 17% throughout the entire district.
So we are open. Without subs. Without bus drivers.
And we are all praying for a snow day. Or two. Or three.
But instead it's so warm my damn tulips are already popping up.
And if that doesn't tell you something, the fact that 15 districts around us were closed part of last week due to illness should.
Notice I said "districts around us"? We aren't closed.
That's not to say we haven't been hit and hit hard. Although my building hasn't been hit hard with student absences, we have had a lot of faculty and staff down for the count. From teachers, to bus drivers, to administrators, to guidance, we're hacking and coughing, and generally dropping like flies. I was sick last week myself, but not bad enough to take a day off. And since we're pretty much short of substitute teachers, even if I did take off, they'd most likely just shut down ISS and let the kids serve the time when I return. It's that bad.
Some of the other buildings not only have a lot of sick staff, but the kids are out too. Classes with ten kids are being supervised by custodians and cafeteria workers because there's no one left. Buses are being driven by mechanics and anyone they can find. We've had trouble with all our buses even showing up to pick up kids in the afternoon because they're so short drivers.
But we are still open. Why? Because we haven't - district-wide - hit the magic number of 17% absent. Some schools may have 30% while others have 5%. Whatever. It's not working out to be 17% throughout the entire district.
So we are open. Without subs. Without bus drivers.
And we are all praying for a snow day. Or two. Or three.
But instead it's so warm my damn tulips are already popping up.
Sunday, February 05, 2017
When They Have All Lost Their Minds, Or Why I Hate Collaborative Planning
Our District believes in collaboration. It believes in collaboration so much, in fact, that it sets aside money to pay for substitute teachers so that teachers can have an entire day to plan together. What this means is that each subject area - math, science, reading language arts, and social studies - gets a day to plan while someone else watches their kids.
It also means that the kids lose their ever loving minds and I get really, really busy. Because, for whatever reason, middle schoolers cannot handle being with a substitute teacher. It's the time that even the good kids act stupid and the trouble makers make even more trouble. What makes it worse is that we have a pretty serious shortage of good, quality substitute teachers who can handle middle school kids. Heck, we can't find permanent teachers to fill open positions (anyone want to teach 7th grade science? Anyone?). All the good subs are offered full-time positions, which leaves, for the most part a rather inept pool of people without the skills they need to survive these kids. We do have some exceptions, like Mr. Brown, the most amazing sub ever who is retired military And Who Takes No Crap From Anyone. The kids fear him, but they also respect him, and he's a dream. Teachers fight over who gets him. This guy is like the most popular girl in school, and is booked months out. But he's a rare exception.
What this means is that I can tell, by looking at how many subs are in the building, that my room will start filling up and filling up fast. This week was a record for us in Our Happy Little Portable. Monday we had a whopping three (yay!), Tuesday went to 13, then Wednesday, and Thursday we had 16, then Friday we had 10. I pretty much max out at 16 because I run out of seats to put kids, so 16 is the most I can take.
My ideal number is 6-8 kids. That way I can get to know them, work with them, and help them. The sort of things I like to do. Anything over that and I feel like all I do is process incoming work (four subjects times the number of kids) and outgoing work, and hopefully making sure they behave. In other words, I have to turn into a paper-processing bitch.
This week was something else.
We got banned from the 8th grade hallway bathrooms due to vandalism. It appears that one of the kids I had for two days (we're pretty sure we know who it is) was jumping up and damaging the ceiling tiles in the bathroom. So now, we have to walk to the other side of the building and use the ones by the cafeteria, which is not very fun when it's cold and rainy out as it's a much longer walk.
Two of the kids got suspended because they lied and said they were bus riders (I have no way of knowing who is and who isn't outside of asking) and then went in the building and were roaming the halls and got busted.
Another kid got an extra day for having a laser pointer.
A sixth grader scraped paint off his cubicle and will be coming in tomorrow during his PE and Computer class to sand and paint, as per his mother's request. As she said, "Make him work, and make him work hard."
A girl got removed and suspended because she didn't like the fact that she had to sit in her seat and be quiet, and began banging on her desk with her fists and screaming, "I wanna call my Momma! I wanna call my Momma!" She's gone for a few days.
And another kid, who got suspended the last time he was out with me for slapping a kid across the face as we came back from the restroom, managed to shove and push a kid THREE TIMES HIS SIZE, and got removed and suspended, when we only had an hour left in the day. Of course, again, this was on the way back from the rest rooms, and he picked on a kid who was big, but too darn nice to retaliate.
I was ready for the weekend.
It also means that the kids lose their ever loving minds and I get really, really busy. Because, for whatever reason, middle schoolers cannot handle being with a substitute teacher. It's the time that even the good kids act stupid and the trouble makers make even more trouble. What makes it worse is that we have a pretty serious shortage of good, quality substitute teachers who can handle middle school kids. Heck, we can't find permanent teachers to fill open positions (anyone want to teach 7th grade science? Anyone?). All the good subs are offered full-time positions, which leaves, for the most part a rather inept pool of people without the skills they need to survive these kids. We do have some exceptions, like Mr. Brown, the most amazing sub ever who is retired military And Who Takes No Crap From Anyone. The kids fear him, but they also respect him, and he's a dream. Teachers fight over who gets him. This guy is like the most popular girl in school, and is booked months out. But he's a rare exception.
What this means is that I can tell, by looking at how many subs are in the building, that my room will start filling up and filling up fast. This week was a record for us in Our Happy Little Portable. Monday we had a whopping three (yay!), Tuesday went to 13, then Wednesday, and Thursday we had 16, then Friday we had 10. I pretty much max out at 16 because I run out of seats to put kids, so 16 is the most I can take.
My ideal number is 6-8 kids. That way I can get to know them, work with them, and help them. The sort of things I like to do. Anything over that and I feel like all I do is process incoming work (four subjects times the number of kids) and outgoing work, and hopefully making sure they behave. In other words, I have to turn into a paper-processing bitch.
This week was something else.
We got banned from the 8th grade hallway bathrooms due to vandalism. It appears that one of the kids I had for two days (we're pretty sure we know who it is) was jumping up and damaging the ceiling tiles in the bathroom. So now, we have to walk to the other side of the building and use the ones by the cafeteria, which is not very fun when it's cold and rainy out as it's a much longer walk.
Two of the kids got suspended because they lied and said they were bus riders (I have no way of knowing who is and who isn't outside of asking) and then went in the building and were roaming the halls and got busted.
Another kid got an extra day for having a laser pointer.
A sixth grader scraped paint off his cubicle and will be coming in tomorrow during his PE and Computer class to sand and paint, as per his mother's request. As she said, "Make him work, and make him work hard."
A girl got removed and suspended because she didn't like the fact that she had to sit in her seat and be quiet, and began banging on her desk with her fists and screaming, "I wanna call my Momma! I wanna call my Momma!" She's gone for a few days.
And another kid, who got suspended the last time he was out with me for slapping a kid across the face as we came back from the restroom, managed to shove and push a kid THREE TIMES HIS SIZE, and got removed and suspended, when we only had an hour left in the day. Of course, again, this was on the way back from the rest rooms, and he picked on a kid who was big, but too darn nice to retaliate.
I was ready for the weekend.
Sunday, January 29, 2017
The Minion Goes on the Run
Life has been interesting with The Minion.
He is still coming to my room 1st period to do his work (when I can get him to do it), he's irritable, grumpy, and gets suspended now and then for stealing and for skipping class. When I try to get him to work, and he's not in the mood, he growls at me. He also has reverted back to some really bad habits he had when he's younger (let's just say he has bathroom issues). We thought he had finally grown out of some of that but alas, no. His classmates hate him because he's weird and he smells and truly, he's not very nice. At all. (It's really sad.)
So last week, when the Bottomless Pit was sent inside to get some work, he came back and reported that "that little weird kid from first period is wandering around outside." Uh-oh. That's not good. Just then the aide that comes and watches my kids for about 30 minutes so I can go use the restroom, make copies, and get a break came in and informed me that she'd seen The Minion when she came out and sent him back into the building. (I'm in a portable in the parking lot - to get to my room, you have to leave the building and walk out there.)
Since I was going in on my break anyway, I went on in to guidance and reported this to guidance. We did some detective work, looked at some of the video (we have cameras all over the place). And discovered that The Minion had left his 3rd period class, gone out the door he usually goes out to come to my portable, and just kept walking. He most likely would have kept walking if The Bottomless Pit and my aide hadn't caught him. He's figured out that no adult supervises his walk out to my room so he took advantage of it. So, I ended up writing a referral for him for being out of area, and left it with the Guidance Goddess.
Half an hour later I get a call from Coach Cool. "Is the Minion out there with you?" he asked.
"Oh heck no, he hates me, I'm the last person he would be with," I informed him.
"Well if you see him, let me know," he said.
What ensued next was an hour of admin sending out emails telling everyone to be on the lookout for this kid, and me getting asked about a dozen times if I'd seen him. The local authorities got involved and the search for this kid was on. About that time, our SRO showed up at his house and asked mom if she'd seen him and she calmly responded that he was home.
What? She didn't think it even remotely weird that her kid showed up at home in the middle of the day? And didn't think to call?
Apparently once the aide had sent him back into the building, he went to the nurse and then left the nurse and went out the exit near her. And started walking home. In the middle of the street. A former student of mine (nicest kid and nicest family ever) was driving to the high school and spotted The Minion in the middle of the street, recognized him from church and, as he told his mom, "got a bad feeling about it", and turned around, picked him up and took him home. He was worried he'd be hit by a car, or picked up by a predator, or something.
So the Minion was safe, which was good. However, he's also in a world of trouble. Mom was told to bring him to school the following day and stay for a meeting. She didn't. She put him on the bus and sent him on his way. She didn't get off the hook that easily as he ended up getting suspended for a few days and she had to come get him anyway.
Not sure what the ultimate decision is going to be regarding The Minion, but I doubt I'll see much of him in the future. For one, most kids that leave school end up going to alternative school and assigned a boatload of points because it's such a dangerous thing to do. Secondly, I think everyone has decided that it's probably not a good idea to have a kid with a history of leaving and wandering around coming out to my portable every day where he has two opportunities to bolt.
We shall see.
He is still coming to my room 1st period to do his work (when I can get him to do it), he's irritable, grumpy, and gets suspended now and then for stealing and for skipping class. When I try to get him to work, and he's not in the mood, he growls at me. He also has reverted back to some really bad habits he had when he's younger (let's just say he has bathroom issues). We thought he had finally grown out of some of that but alas, no. His classmates hate him because he's weird and he smells and truly, he's not very nice. At all. (It's really sad.)
So last week, when the Bottomless Pit was sent inside to get some work, he came back and reported that "that little weird kid from first period is wandering around outside." Uh-oh. That's not good. Just then the aide that comes and watches my kids for about 30 minutes so I can go use the restroom, make copies, and get a break came in and informed me that she'd seen The Minion when she came out and sent him back into the building. (I'm in a portable in the parking lot - to get to my room, you have to leave the building and walk out there.)
Since I was going in on my break anyway, I went on in to guidance and reported this to guidance. We did some detective work, looked at some of the video (we have cameras all over the place). And discovered that The Minion had left his 3rd period class, gone out the door he usually goes out to come to my portable, and just kept walking. He most likely would have kept walking if The Bottomless Pit and my aide hadn't caught him. He's figured out that no adult supervises his walk out to my room so he took advantage of it. So, I ended up writing a referral for him for being out of area, and left it with the Guidance Goddess.
Half an hour later I get a call from Coach Cool. "Is the Minion out there with you?" he asked.
"Oh heck no, he hates me, I'm the last person he would be with," I informed him.
"Well if you see him, let me know," he said.
What ensued next was an hour of admin sending out emails telling everyone to be on the lookout for this kid, and me getting asked about a dozen times if I'd seen him. The local authorities got involved and the search for this kid was on. About that time, our SRO showed up at his house and asked mom if she'd seen him and she calmly responded that he was home.
What? She didn't think it even remotely weird that her kid showed up at home in the middle of the day? And didn't think to call?
Apparently once the aide had sent him back into the building, he went to the nurse and then left the nurse and went out the exit near her. And started walking home. In the middle of the street. A former student of mine (nicest kid and nicest family ever) was driving to the high school and spotted The Minion in the middle of the street, recognized him from church and, as he told his mom, "got a bad feeling about it", and turned around, picked him up and took him home. He was worried he'd be hit by a car, or picked up by a predator, or something.
So the Minion was safe, which was good. However, he's also in a world of trouble. Mom was told to bring him to school the following day and stay for a meeting. She didn't. She put him on the bus and sent him on his way. She didn't get off the hook that easily as he ended up getting suspended for a few days and she had to come get him anyway.
Not sure what the ultimate decision is going to be regarding The Minion, but I doubt I'll see much of him in the future. For one, most kids that leave school end up going to alternative school and assigned a boatload of points because it's such a dangerous thing to do. Secondly, I think everyone has decided that it's probably not a good idea to have a kid with a history of leaving and wandering around coming out to my portable every day where he has two opportunities to bolt.
We shall see.
Wednesday, January 25, 2017
Taking One for the Team
So the Bottomless Pit arrived in Our Happy Little Portable Yesterday like a tornado.
"Mrs. Bluebird!," he bellowed. "I forgot my meds today! Can I call my mom?"
Oh hell yes. Call her. Now.
So he called mom (14 and he still calls her Mommy, loved that). Unfortunately Mom couldn't leave work to bring him his meds but she did give him quite an earful about making sure he wakes up on time and takes his meds because he does nothing but get in trouble without them.
Which is true.
I'm not a huge fan of meds for kids. Truly I think a lot of kids would be better served with a lower carb diet, more exercise and more sleep, but there are some kids, like the Bottomless Pit, that really, really need their meds. Without them, the Bottomless Pit is nearly crawling the walls.
I was amazed he had made it to fourth period without someone losing their minds over his behavior, especially as we had so many substitute teachers in the building. So when the Bottomless Pit asked if he could stay in my room the rest of the day so he could get some work done without getting in trouble, I thought a minute, counted heads (I had two absent and only six there) and figured why not?
Called his teachers, sent him in for work, and then proceeded to try not to lose my mind dealing with him and the ping ponging he did for the remainder of the day. But, let's be honest. Better him in with me annoying only a few people, rather than driving a classroom of over 30 insane.
The Bottomless Pit without meds is a constant running stream of conversation regarding anything that enters his mind. And I mean anything. I heard his opinions on squirrels, why he doesn't like his language arts teacher, the benefits of chocolate milk over strawberry, why some girls annoy him, how he doesn't like mom's boyfriend, and any number of things.
My head was spinning.
I managed to make it through the day without losing my patience (although I came close). I got a hug as he left for the day and he promised - "cross my heart and hope to die" - he would have his meds the following day.
He did. Bless his little heart.
"Mrs. Bluebird!," he bellowed. "I forgot my meds today! Can I call my mom?"
Oh hell yes. Call her. Now.
So he called mom (14 and he still calls her Mommy, loved that). Unfortunately Mom couldn't leave work to bring him his meds but she did give him quite an earful about making sure he wakes up on time and takes his meds because he does nothing but get in trouble without them.
Which is true.
I'm not a huge fan of meds for kids. Truly I think a lot of kids would be better served with a lower carb diet, more exercise and more sleep, but there are some kids, like the Bottomless Pit, that really, really need their meds. Without them, the Bottomless Pit is nearly crawling the walls.
I was amazed he had made it to fourth period without someone losing their minds over his behavior, especially as we had so many substitute teachers in the building. So when the Bottomless Pit asked if he could stay in my room the rest of the day so he could get some work done without getting in trouble, I thought a minute, counted heads (I had two absent and only six there) and figured why not?
Called his teachers, sent him in for work, and then proceeded to try not to lose my mind dealing with him and the ping ponging he did for the remainder of the day. But, let's be honest. Better him in with me annoying only a few people, rather than driving a classroom of over 30 insane.
The Bottomless Pit without meds is a constant running stream of conversation regarding anything that enters his mind. And I mean anything. I heard his opinions on squirrels, why he doesn't like his language arts teacher, the benefits of chocolate milk over strawberry, why some girls annoy him, how he doesn't like mom's boyfriend, and any number of things.
My head was spinning.
I managed to make it through the day without losing my patience (although I came close). I got a hug as he left for the day and he promised - "cross my heart and hope to die" - he would have his meds the following day.
He did. Bless his little heart.
Monday, January 16, 2017
Giving a Kid a Chance
The few weeks before Christmas break was really, really busy in Our Happy Little Portable. Kids were getting the crazies, teachers were frazzled and I was going from an average of six kids a day to sixteen. My administrators are pretty amazing and are more than happy to suspend a kid who can't make it in my room. I have a lot of patience, and do what I can do keep a kid in school, but there are times I have to just pick up the phone and have a kid removed and consequently suspended.
The Bottomless Pit was one of them. So, when I get a phone call informing me that the Bottomless Pit was going to be with me for a day, I was curious as to how this would all play out. He could come in with a chip on his shoulder which would make for a very unpleasant day. Or not. It all depended on his attitude.
So, the Bottomless Pit arrived, with three failing grades, and was the only kid I had that day (it's usually pretty slow at the beginning of a grading period). I told him we were going to focus on his grades and get them back up, So, instead of parking him in a cubicle, I had him sitting right next to me and we got to work.
But what we really did was talk. The kid spilled his guts and talked about how he had such a bad sixth and seventh grade year, how badly he missed his dad who passed away last year, how much he adored his little brother, and how his mom worked all the time. He talked about how he has trouble focusing when he's not on his meds, how he knows he can do better, how he wants to play sports in high school, how he'd like to look at the military as a career, and how he has trouble not being a class clown.
But what really got me was he said something I rarely, if ever, hear from a kid. "It's totally my responsibility why I get in trouble."
Wow! I get so tired of hearing from kids - and adults - how nothing is every their fault, how they are never responsible, and here was a fourteen year old who clearly owned up to screwing up.
So I decided to give this kid a chance. He asked if he could stay in ISS for the rest of the week, because it was quiet, and he got help, and he liked to be there with me. That's not an option. But one option was to take him out of art class and assign him to me for that period as my Aide. After all, I could use one. But more importantly, we should be able to get his grades where they need to be so we can send him off to high school a little bit better prepared. And hopefully I can work with him a bit more on making better decisions. He's obviously receptive.
So he's now my Aide and he couldn't be happier. He's getting his work done, for the most part, although I still have to push and prod a bit. And we're working on some goals.
As for his name? Kid is constantly hungry. Not because there isn't food at home (there is - mom may work a lot but she provides for her kids). He's hungry because he's 14 and growing like a weed. He told me he'd already grown three inches since the beginning of the year. It's a wonder he doesn't eat the furniture.
Tuesday, January 10, 2017
Oh Hey, We're Back
So Christmas break is over and we're back in school. Had a nice time visiting Mother Bird in Colorado where we managed a White Christmas, and enjoyed some quality time with Hubby.
But now we're back.
And truth be told, it's kind of boring.
Our kids start over with referrals whenever we begin a new grading period. Which means I'm usually not too busy until the second week or so after a new period has started. Usually. This time it seems to be a little too quiet.
So quiet I'm waiting for the onslaught.
Oh, I've had a kid. Or two. All of them familiar faces which brings new meaning to the phrase "learn from our mistakes" because these kids just aren't getting it.
But for the most part it means I've been able to get caught up on things like filing, updating my sub book, watching a whole bunch of Khan Academy videos to brush up on my 8th grade math, updating the school wiki, and clean the room.
I'm thinking, however, that this honeymoon period is going to be over very shortly. Like tomorrow.
We shall see.
But now we're back.
And truth be told, it's kind of boring.
Our kids start over with referrals whenever we begin a new grading period. Which means I'm usually not too busy until the second week or so after a new period has started. Usually. This time it seems to be a little too quiet.
So quiet I'm waiting for the onslaught.
Oh, I've had a kid. Or two. All of them familiar faces which brings new meaning to the phrase "learn from our mistakes" because these kids just aren't getting it.
But for the most part it means I've been able to get caught up on things like filing, updating my sub book, watching a whole bunch of Khan Academy videos to brush up on my 8th grade math, updating the school wiki, and clean the room.
I'm thinking, however, that this honeymoon period is going to be over very shortly. Like tomorrow.
We shall see.
Friday, December 16, 2016
When Technology Is Your Friend
So this year, amazingly, I got nine student laptops to use in my Happy Little Portable. This was shocking because the three desk top computers I had in there last year were more or less "illegal" to our technology department. I was told not to expect any technology out there (we aren't a "priority") and one of the tech geeks is a good friend of mine on Facebook and he took pity on me. He went to the computer graveyard, scrounged up three desktops, fixed them up and installed them.
And then during the summer they were removed and I figured I was screwed. And just when the District was pushing "digital blended learning" and wanting teachers to use Google classroom, and Nearpod, and we were going to all on-line testing in the four academic areas through our own district website. But the District decided to go all-in and processed, over the summer, 30,000 student and teacher laptops.
I figured since I wasn't supposed to have had those three in the first place, I wasn't getting any new laptops to replace them. I was wrong. I was originally assigned three, and then remarkably, we ended up with an additional lab, and I got six more. Considering how much testing and classwork is now done on line, this was awesome. (I suspect the powers that be saw me sending out emails requesting paper assignments because I didn't have enough computers. Whatever.)
However. When you have that many student laptops, it's a bit of a challenge to monitor where the kids are on-line. They can't all sit by me, and I can't see their screens across the room. So that was a bit of a dilemma.
Until one of the other ISS teachers at another middle school told us about some software that lets him monitor the kids' laptops from his desk. I put in a tech request and within two hours was up and running. (It's called NetSupport, in case you're interested). The only thing I had to give up was one of the student computers that's now my monitoring station. I figured that was a small price to pay.
This. Is. Awesome.
I can sit at my desk and view all eight computer screens, see where the kids are at, take over their computers if they are having trouble, lock them out of the computer, making their screen go black, send them meand generally make them nuts because I Am Watching Their Every Move.
Honestly, I use this more to help kids who are having trouble accessing websites. Say what you will about this "tech generation" but their typing skills suck. Nine times out of ten, they can't get to a website because they misspelled the URL.
But every once in a while I'll get a kid in there who hasn't quite figured out that I Am Watching, and it's fun to make his head explode. Especially when he's out with us for a tech violation.
I've had the same 8th grader twice this past month, both for tech violations. The first he was researching to see what size his penis should be (I kid you not). The second was for being on YouTube and watching music videos and not doing his assignment. So when Tech Violator decided to go shopping for shoes when he was supposed to be writing an essay in Google Classroom, I decided to blow his mind.
I turned his screen black.
And sat back and watched the fun.
"Hey, what's going on?" he said. He tapped at the screen. He tapped at the escape key. He picked it up and looked under the computer.
"Tech Violator," I said from my desk, to get his attention.
"Yes, Ma'am?" he said.
"Stop shopping for shoes," I said.
"What?" Panic stricken face. "What do you mean?"
"She can see everything you're doing on that computer," one of the other kids said. "She turned your screen black because she saw something you weren't supposed to be doing."
"She can do that?" Tech Violator asked.
At this point, I turned his screen back on and send a message. "Stay off shopping websites and type your essay," I wrote.
It dinged in on his screen and he read it. He looked around at me, and then looked at the other kid.
"That's scary," he said.
"Yup," said the other kid. "So you better not be looking up sizes anymore."
And then during the summer they were removed and I figured I was screwed. And just when the District was pushing "digital blended learning" and wanting teachers to use Google classroom, and Nearpod, and we were going to all on-line testing in the four academic areas through our own district website. But the District decided to go all-in and processed, over the summer, 30,000 student and teacher laptops.
I figured since I wasn't supposed to have had those three in the first place, I wasn't getting any new laptops to replace them. I was wrong. I was originally assigned three, and then remarkably, we ended up with an additional lab, and I got six more. Considering how much testing and classwork is now done on line, this was awesome. (I suspect the powers that be saw me sending out emails requesting paper assignments because I didn't have enough computers. Whatever.)
However. When you have that many student laptops, it's a bit of a challenge to monitor where the kids are on-line. They can't all sit by me, and I can't see their screens across the room. So that was a bit of a dilemma.
Until one of the other ISS teachers at another middle school told us about some software that lets him monitor the kids' laptops from his desk. I put in a tech request and within two hours was up and running. (It's called NetSupport, in case you're interested). The only thing I had to give up was one of the student computers that's now my monitoring station. I figured that was a small price to pay.
This. Is. Awesome.
I can sit at my desk and view all eight computer screens, see where the kids are at, take over their computers if they are having trouble, lock them out of the computer, making their screen go black, send them meand generally make them nuts because I Am Watching Their Every Move.
Honestly, I use this more to help kids who are having trouble accessing websites. Say what you will about this "tech generation" but their typing skills suck. Nine times out of ten, they can't get to a website because they misspelled the URL.
But every once in a while I'll get a kid in there who hasn't quite figured out that I Am Watching, and it's fun to make his head explode. Especially when he's out with us for a tech violation.
I've had the same 8th grader twice this past month, both for tech violations. The first he was researching to see what size his penis should be (I kid you not). The second was for being on YouTube and watching music videos and not doing his assignment. So when Tech Violator decided to go shopping for shoes when he was supposed to be writing an essay in Google Classroom, I decided to blow his mind.
I turned his screen black.
And sat back and watched the fun.
"Hey, what's going on?" he said. He tapped at the screen. He tapped at the escape key. He picked it up and looked under the computer.
"Tech Violator," I said from my desk, to get his attention.
"Yes, Ma'am?" he said.
"Stop shopping for shoes," I said.
"What?" Panic stricken face. "What do you mean?"
"She can see everything you're doing on that computer," one of the other kids said. "She turned your screen black because she saw something you weren't supposed to be doing."
"She can do that?" Tech Violator asked.
At this point, I turned his screen back on and send a message. "Stay off shopping websites and type your essay," I wrote.
It dinged in on his screen and he read it. He looked around at me, and then looked at the other kid.
"That's scary," he said.
"Yup," said the other kid. "So you better not be looking up sizes anymore."
Monday, December 12, 2016
And the Revolving Door Spins and Spins
Another busy Monday in Our Happy Little Portable...We had eleven kids, which is high, but considering how the kids have apparently had a collective come apart everywhere you turn, that wasn't surprising.
What was surprising, however, was they apparently got the memo about "She'll really suspend you!" because they were good as gold. I did have to use the seat I refer to as the Penalty Box (so shoot me, I love hockey) because it's the one seat where no one can really see if there is a kid there. And I have a Drama Queen of a Seventh Grader who will stir up drama like no body's business. But put her in a seat where she can't see anyone, and they can't see her? Worked like a charm. She was quiet and she worked.
So they were, for the most part, pretty awesome.
However, the emails just kept coming. We have so many kids getting assigned to ISS that I'm taking advanced reservations. So I spent most of the day processing new kids who were getting assigned to ISS on Tuesday and on Wednesday (and one unfortunate fellow will be with me all the way through Thursday).
I really need to time how long it takes me to in process a kid...Set up a folder, print off a schedule and grades, type up an assignment sheet, email the assignment sheet, update my roster, assign a seat, fill out a contract, set up their work folder, blah, blah, blah.
But what I started to notice when I was processing my advanced reservations was that they were all kids I had had before. And kids I had had very, very recently. Like last week.
They apparently are NOT learning from their mistakes.
Which is not good.
What was surprising, however, was they apparently got the memo about "She'll really suspend you!" because they were good as gold. I did have to use the seat I refer to as the Penalty Box (so shoot me, I love hockey) because it's the one seat where no one can really see if there is a kid there. And I have a Drama Queen of a Seventh Grader who will stir up drama like no body's business. But put her in a seat where she can't see anyone, and they can't see her? Worked like a charm. She was quiet and she worked.
So they were, for the most part, pretty awesome.
However, the emails just kept coming. We have so many kids getting assigned to ISS that I'm taking advanced reservations. So I spent most of the day processing new kids who were getting assigned to ISS on Tuesday and on Wednesday (and one unfortunate fellow will be with me all the way through Thursday).
I really need to time how long it takes me to in process a kid...Set up a folder, print off a schedule and grades, type up an assignment sheet, email the assignment sheet, update my roster, assign a seat, fill out a contract, set up their work folder, blah, blah, blah.
But what I started to notice when I was processing my advanced reservations was that they were all kids I had had before. And kids I had had very, very recently. Like last week.
They apparently are NOT learning from their mistakes.
Which is not good.
Sunday, December 11, 2016
Just What Part of "You'll Be Suspended." Do You Not Understand?
Well last week was...well...hell on earth.
Let's face it, it's been a beastly semester. The sixth graders we had been warned about lived up to their reputation, and then some. And there are times we look at each other and wonder if we're working in a school or a mental health facility. Too many incidences of kids having screaming, kicking, crazy melt-downs and having to be removed by the SRO (in handcuffs no less). The kids are off the chain behavior-wise, and we're busy just trying to make it Four And A Half More Days.
And My Happy Little Portable was full to the brim this past week.
Usually, I have 6-8 kids. That's ideal. That's perfect. That gives me a chance to get to know the kids, sit down with them, help them, and generally it makes for an awesome day.
But this week? Let's see...12 on Monday, 11 on Tuesday, 12 on Wednesday, 14 on Thursday and 15 on Friday. I was running out of seats. And the administrators were running out of patience with these kids. Most of them, truth be told, were kids I'd had multiple times. Frequent flyers so to speak. So they know the drill. But 15 of them in there is not a good situation. I have to really lay down the law and get a little more bitchy than I like, but if I don't it's chaos. And some of the kids I had this week were real doozies...kids that were tearing up classrooms with their behavior and kids who think, for some reason, that they can argue with adults.
I don't argue with children. Period.
I have written a dozen write ups this year. Five were this week.
And the admins have always been good about backing me up when I have a kid removed. But this week they decided that they weren't going to waste any time and were going to suspend them immediately. As Coach Cool said, "You're more than patient with them, if they screw up for you, they deserve to be suspended."
I always warn kids about this every morning when I go through our orientation. I like to remind them that this is the last stop on the discipline train and that They Do Not Want To Aggravate Mrs. Bluebird.
But two knucklehead apparently didn't get that memo. Or chose to ignore it.
The worst part of the day is when we move, en masse, from our Happy Little Portable to the building to use the restrooms. They're pretty good when they're in their seats working, but get them up and moving, and all hell breaks loose (even though they're supposed to be single file and silent, they're still moving.)
So one kid decides to slap another kid in the face after we come back from the bathroom break. The kid that got slapped, surprisingly, didn't retaliate. He was just so stunned he sat down and blinked a bit. I simply told Slap Boy that he needed to get his things together because he was leaving.
I picked up the phone and dialed the office. "I need an administrator to remove a kid, please," I said.
"No problem," said our ever efficient secretary.
"Thanks," I say, and as I say this, I see another kid stand up, twirl around and throw a wad of paper at another student.
Really? I'm on the phone asking to have a kid removed, and you stand up, get out of your seat, and throw something at another kid?
"Make that two kids removed," I added. "Hold on, let me see if there are anymore."
"Hey, while I have the office on the phone," I announced, "Is there anyone else who wants to do anything stupid and get suspended?"
Silence. They all turned around in their seats and started working (or pretending to work).
The two kids who were removed were stunned. It's like they don't believe me.
However, the kids that remained? They got the message. They were good as gold the rest of the day.
Let's face it, it's been a beastly semester. The sixth graders we had been warned about lived up to their reputation, and then some. And there are times we look at each other and wonder if we're working in a school or a mental health facility. Too many incidences of kids having screaming, kicking, crazy melt-downs and having to be removed by the SRO (in handcuffs no less). The kids are off the chain behavior-wise, and we're busy just trying to make it Four And A Half More Days.
And My Happy Little Portable was full to the brim this past week.
Usually, I have 6-8 kids. That's ideal. That's perfect. That gives me a chance to get to know the kids, sit down with them, help them, and generally it makes for an awesome day.
But this week? Let's see...12 on Monday, 11 on Tuesday, 12 on Wednesday, 14 on Thursday and 15 on Friday. I was running out of seats. And the administrators were running out of patience with these kids. Most of them, truth be told, were kids I'd had multiple times. Frequent flyers so to speak. So they know the drill. But 15 of them in there is not a good situation. I have to really lay down the law and get a little more bitchy than I like, but if I don't it's chaos. And some of the kids I had this week were real doozies...kids that were tearing up classrooms with their behavior and kids who think, for some reason, that they can argue with adults.
I don't argue with children. Period.
I have written a dozen write ups this year. Five were this week.
And the admins have always been good about backing me up when I have a kid removed. But this week they decided that they weren't going to waste any time and were going to suspend them immediately. As Coach Cool said, "You're more than patient with them, if they screw up for you, they deserve to be suspended."
I always warn kids about this every morning when I go through our orientation. I like to remind them that this is the last stop on the discipline train and that They Do Not Want To Aggravate Mrs. Bluebird.
But two knucklehead apparently didn't get that memo. Or chose to ignore it.
The worst part of the day is when we move, en masse, from our Happy Little Portable to the building to use the restrooms. They're pretty good when they're in their seats working, but get them up and moving, and all hell breaks loose (even though they're supposed to be single file and silent, they're still moving.)
So one kid decides to slap another kid in the face after we come back from the bathroom break. The kid that got slapped, surprisingly, didn't retaliate. He was just so stunned he sat down and blinked a bit. I simply told Slap Boy that he needed to get his things together because he was leaving.
I picked up the phone and dialed the office. "I need an administrator to remove a kid, please," I said.
"No problem," said our ever efficient secretary.
"Thanks," I say, and as I say this, I see another kid stand up, twirl around and throw a wad of paper at another student.
Really? I'm on the phone asking to have a kid removed, and you stand up, get out of your seat, and throw something at another kid?
"Make that two kids removed," I added. "Hold on, let me see if there are anymore."
"Hey, while I have the office on the phone," I announced, "Is there anyone else who wants to do anything stupid and get suspended?"
Silence. They all turned around in their seats and started working (or pretending to work).
The two kids who were removed were stunned. It's like they don't believe me.
However, the kids that remained? They got the message. They were good as gold the rest of the day.
Friday, November 11, 2016
The Cubs Won! And I'm Exhausted.
So, I haven't posted much in the past few weeks but I have a really good reason.
Baseball.
Seriously. Between the NLCS and the World Series, this Cubs Fan was getting very little sleep, and blogging time was non existent. Priorities people.
See, baseball has always been a huge part of my life. My Dad, awesome man that he was, realized that even though his only child was a girl, that didn't mean he couldn't teach her to love sports. So I spent a lot of my childhood and young adult life (when I lived on the West Coast) going to California Angel games with my dad and my cousins (and no, I'm never going to call them anything but the California Angels. So sue me.) Our family relocated to Los Angeles about the same time the franchise started and so my dad, who loved the underdog, became an Angel fan.
However, when one moves to and eastern time zone, like Daddy Bird and I both did, it is really hard to follow a West Coast Time.
So we became Cubs fans. My Dad always, and I mean always, loved the underdog. And he loved Harry Carey and his announcing. So he started following the Chicago Cubs. Because seriously? Was there any other team that defined "underdog" like the Cubs?
And we fell in love.
Whereas we aren't from Chicago (Mr. Bluebird is, however) and we don't have a legacy like many of my other Chicago Cubs fans do with the team, we loved them none the less. My Dad, every year, would hope for a championship, and like millions of Cubs fans before him, was disappointed. When he passed away three years ago, I made sure that he had a Cubs t-shirt with him in his coffin. He would never have forgiven me if I didn't.
So, for the first year after he died, baseball was more painful than fun. I didn't have him to call after each game to discuss the plays and the scores and the bad calls and everything. And I missed that more than you can imagine. It made my heart break that I didn't have anyone to discuss the Cubs with, as Mr. Bluebird is not a baseball fan (hockey is his game). And so baseball sort of left my life for a year or two.
And then I met Baseball Boy, and baseball, and especially Chicago Cubs baseball, became fun again.
So now that Baseball Boy (who I also call my nephew because he's told everyone I'm his aunt, and his parents are thrilled by that, so who's to stop him) is in high school I don't see him as much, but we text and talk a lot. Especially during baseball games. And it was a fantastic year for us Cubs fans.
And as the season went on, Baseball Boy and I started to wonder if this finally was our year.
And we won the NCLS, the first time since 1945. (Baseball Boy calculated that my dad was 10 when that happened.)
And then we won the World Series and partied like it was 1908!
And Baseball Boy and I are still just beaming. And waiting for Spring. And Spring Training. And Opening Day. And another great season.
And in the meantime, I'm teaching him about hockey.
Baseball.
Seriously. Between the NLCS and the World Series, this Cubs Fan was getting very little sleep, and blogging time was non existent. Priorities people.
See, baseball has always been a huge part of my life. My Dad, awesome man that he was, realized that even though his only child was a girl, that didn't mean he couldn't teach her to love sports. So I spent a lot of my childhood and young adult life (when I lived on the West Coast) going to California Angel games with my dad and my cousins (and no, I'm never going to call them anything but the California Angels. So sue me.) Our family relocated to Los Angeles about the same time the franchise started and so my dad, who loved the underdog, became an Angel fan.
However, when one moves to and eastern time zone, like Daddy Bird and I both did, it is really hard to follow a West Coast Time.
So we became Cubs fans. My Dad always, and I mean always, loved the underdog. And he loved Harry Carey and his announcing. So he started following the Chicago Cubs. Because seriously? Was there any other team that defined "underdog" like the Cubs?
And we fell in love.
Whereas we aren't from Chicago (Mr. Bluebird is, however) and we don't have a legacy like many of my other Chicago Cubs fans do with the team, we loved them none the less. My Dad, every year, would hope for a championship, and like millions of Cubs fans before him, was disappointed. When he passed away three years ago, I made sure that he had a Cubs t-shirt with him in his coffin. He would never have forgiven me if I didn't.
So, for the first year after he died, baseball was more painful than fun. I didn't have him to call after each game to discuss the plays and the scores and the bad calls and everything. And I missed that more than you can imagine. It made my heart break that I didn't have anyone to discuss the Cubs with, as Mr. Bluebird is not a baseball fan (hockey is his game). And so baseball sort of left my life for a year or two.
And then I met Baseball Boy, and baseball, and especially Chicago Cubs baseball, became fun again.
So now that Baseball Boy (who I also call my nephew because he's told everyone I'm his aunt, and his parents are thrilled by that, so who's to stop him) is in high school I don't see him as much, but we text and talk a lot. Especially during baseball games. And it was a fantastic year for us Cubs fans.
And as the season went on, Baseball Boy and I started to wonder if this finally was our year.
And we won the NCLS, the first time since 1945. (Baseball Boy calculated that my dad was 10 when that happened.)
And then we won the World Series and partied like it was 1908!
And Baseball Boy and I are still just beaming. And waiting for Spring. And Spring Training. And Opening Day. And another great season.
And in the meantime, I'm teaching him about hockey.
Sunday, October 30, 2016
And then there was the Minion
We had a nice fall break at the beginning of the month with warm weather and many of us headed out of town. (I went to Colorado to visit Momma Bird who relocated there this past summer. I had The List of Chores to do for her. List completed...)
But back to school we went, and with it came a phone call one morning from The Enforcer.
Now that The Enforcer is the Principal, I don't talk to him as much as he's not working behavior referrals for the kids. However, once in a while he gets involved with a kid issue and today was one of those days.
"So, Mrs. Bluebird, need your help. I have this kid, a seventh grader, who just absolutely hates school, except for band. Kid is falling apart, but he's borderline in a few classes. Put him in study hall, but that didn't work due to the number of kids. I've got his dad on the phone and we were wondering if you could take him under your wing one period a day and see if you can get some work out of him."
Oh here we go again.
Turns out I know the kid, he'd been in my room a few times last year, and there are days he'll work and then there are days he will Absolutely Freaking Refuse to do Anything He Does Not Want to Do. At All. He's also one of the rudest kid I've ever met which apparently is how The Enforcer met him. He's one of the few kids I've ever heard who would talk back and buck up to The Enforcer And It Did Not Go Well for him.
I told The Enforcer that I wasn't going to make any promises, but I'd try.
He's a bit of an odd duck, a small kid, and very immature. He reminds me of an 3rd grader in a lot of ways. He cannot for the life of him figure out how to use a locker, can't get to class on time to save his life and loses things. Which is why his parents got him these glasses that look like goggles that strap to his head. And make him look like a Minion.
The Minion got his schedule changed and showed up in my class the next day.
"Mr. Guidance said I'm your aide," he declared when he came in and sat down in the seat I pointed out for him. Right next to me. (He was not happy. I happen to know he dislikes me a lot - mainly because when I've had him before I've held him accountable. He hates that)
"Well, actually it says aide, but you're here more for study hall. And when my aides aren't working for me, they're doing their school work."
"It says I'm your aide," he repeated.
It was going to be one of those days.
The Minion has his moments. He still has this idea that he's my aide and wanted to know why Honor Roll Kid, my regular aide, got to run errands in the building and he didn't.
"Because he has all his work done and has A's and B's," I said.
He pondered that for a few days and kept harping on why he didn't get to run errands. Which is obviously something he wants to do. So now we have a routine. His teachers email me work for him to do, I give it to him, he does it, and then he gets to use the swipe card, go into the building, and deliver it to the teacher. Whatever it takes to keep him working and happy.
He wanted to go to the book fair. I told him he had to behave and get his work done. He got his work done but then wanted to be disruptive and wave his arms and make faces at my regular customers so I told him he'd lost his chance to go to the book fair and he'd have to see if he could do better the next day. He did and he got to go to the book fair.
Really, showing this kid rewards and consequences is pretty easy at this point. He's still rude, still cranky, and still very strange with his big google eyeglasses strapped to his head.
And when he showed up in a yellow rain slicker the other day, looking EXACTLY like a Disney Minion, I about died...but so far, so good.
But back to school we went, and with it came a phone call one morning from The Enforcer.
Now that The Enforcer is the Principal, I don't talk to him as much as he's not working behavior referrals for the kids. However, once in a while he gets involved with a kid issue and today was one of those days.
"So, Mrs. Bluebird, need your help. I have this kid, a seventh grader, who just absolutely hates school, except for band. Kid is falling apart, but he's borderline in a few classes. Put him in study hall, but that didn't work due to the number of kids. I've got his dad on the phone and we were wondering if you could take him under your wing one period a day and see if you can get some work out of him."
Oh here we go again.
Turns out I know the kid, he'd been in my room a few times last year, and there are days he'll work and then there are days he will Absolutely Freaking Refuse to do Anything He Does Not Want to Do. At All. He's also one of the rudest kid I've ever met which apparently is how The Enforcer met him. He's one of the few kids I've ever heard who would talk back and buck up to The Enforcer And It Did Not Go Well for him.
I told The Enforcer that I wasn't going to make any promises, but I'd try.
He's a bit of an odd duck, a small kid, and very immature. He reminds me of an 3rd grader in a lot of ways. He cannot for the life of him figure out how to use a locker, can't get to class on time to save his life and loses things. Which is why his parents got him these glasses that look like goggles that strap to his head. And make him look like a Minion.
The Minion got his schedule changed and showed up in my class the next day.
"Mr. Guidance said I'm your aide," he declared when he came in and sat down in the seat I pointed out for him. Right next to me. (He was not happy. I happen to know he dislikes me a lot - mainly because when I've had him before I've held him accountable. He hates that)
"Well, actually it says aide, but you're here more for study hall. And when my aides aren't working for me, they're doing their school work."
"It says I'm your aide," he repeated.
It was going to be one of those days.
The Minion has his moments. He still has this idea that he's my aide and wanted to know why Honor Roll Kid, my regular aide, got to run errands in the building and he didn't.
"Because he has all his work done and has A's and B's," I said.
He pondered that for a few days and kept harping on why he didn't get to run errands. Which is obviously something he wants to do. So now we have a routine. His teachers email me work for him to do, I give it to him, he does it, and then he gets to use the swipe card, go into the building, and deliver it to the teacher. Whatever it takes to keep him working and happy.
He wanted to go to the book fair. I told him he had to behave and get his work done. He got his work done but then wanted to be disruptive and wave his arms and make faces at my regular customers so I told him he'd lost his chance to go to the book fair and he'd have to see if he could do better the next day. He did and he got to go to the book fair.
Really, showing this kid rewards and consequences is pretty easy at this point. He's still rude, still cranky, and still very strange with his big google eyeglasses strapped to his head.
And when he showed up in a yellow rain slicker the other day, looking EXACTLY like a Disney Minion, I about died...but so far, so good.
Wednesday, October 05, 2016
Going Three for Three and Dodging Mashed Potatos
It's been an interesting week in Our Happy Little Portable.
We're in the last week of the grading period and as such, I'm seeing quite a bit of activity. Kids have racked up a lot of discipline points and write-ups and they're landing out with me. And for most of them, it's their second or third visit.
This week we were blessed with The Tyrant. This little guy is a sixth grader who came to us with a behavior file that boggled the mind. He is a piece of work. Has a hair trigger temper, refuses to do anything he does not want to do, and is angry with the world.
Oh yay.
The first day he was out with us I had to call Admin to come remove him as he would not be quiet, would not stay in his seat, and absolutely utterly refused to do his assignments (he'd throw them at me). When Coach Cool asked him to get his backpack, he screamed "NO!" and went home with out it.
The second day was pretty much a repeat of the first but slightly better. I didn't have to call to have him removed until later in the day. (Keep in mind I rarely ever call to have a kid removed. It's just not something I usually have issues with but this kid...well, he's something else.)
Today was our third - and thankfully, last - day with The Tyrant. He was, amazingly, almost done with his work (even though it was crap) although he was getting very frustrated with math because he does not know his basic multiplication tables.
Today started out rough. There was some police activity in the neighborhood so Coach Cool had me relocate my classroom from Our Happy Little Portable into the building, into a room across from the library. We call it the reference room, but it's more like book storage combined with a meeting room. In any case, I wheeled in my cart with emergency supplies, computers, and files and camped out there for the day. It's not ideal, but it works. I only had four boys this morning, including The Tyrant, so it probably wouldn't be too bad until they started adding kids (which they usually don't when we're in the building, they wait until the following day).
Mrs. Sweet, the library aide who takes the kids to lunch, arrived from the library and took them down to the cafeteria to pick up their lunches while I have my 30 minutes duty free lunch. Ate lunch, checked our mail box for assignments, and headed back to our room, passing by the Librarian's desk.
And look across to see the lead custodian enter the room we were using with a bucket, rags, and a yellow "wet floor" sign.
"Oh crap," I asked her. "What's going on with my kids?"
"That little blonde one you have? He apparently lost his mind, started screaming at everyone, and started slinging mashed potatoes from his lunch all over MY room," The Librarian responded. Oh she was MAD. (And I don't blame her.)
I get to the room to find Mrs. Sweet and the Lead Custodian cleaning up the room, wiping down shelves, tables, chairs, and the rug. (Which was going to have to be shampooed tonight apparently).
Mrs. Sweet stood up, "I honestly don't know what happened or what I did. One minute he was fine, the next minute he's flipping the bird at the other kids, screaming and throwing mashed potatoes at them. Or maybe he was aiming at me. I really don't know. But he threw them everywhere."
I assured her that she didn't do anything, that the Tyrant flips his lid at the slightest provocation and there isn't anything we can do about it.
"So where is he?" I asked.
"The Enforcer came and got him," she said. "I had to call for an administrator before he tore the room apart."
Oh great. The Enforcer. Who is now The Principal.
So, I had the other kids write witness statements (more to keep them busy than anything else, but they LOVE witness statements) and pretty soon The Guidance Diva came by and told me that she'd just dropped The Tyrant's files off on The Enforcer's desk and that The Tyrant was perched on the arm of the chair like a little vulture waiting to pounce.
"That sounds like The Tyrant," I told her. "Are they finally suspending him?"
"Finally," she said. I'm sure his team will be delighted. It's nearly a daily occurrence having to have him removed from a classroom, but we can't do anything until a behavior plan is in place as he's identified as special education."
Well, he went three for three in my room. Three days in ISS, Three days removed from ISS.
And then there was the mashed potatoes.
Seriously. You can't make this stuff up.
Two days until break.
We're in the last week of the grading period and as such, I'm seeing quite a bit of activity. Kids have racked up a lot of discipline points and write-ups and they're landing out with me. And for most of them, it's their second or third visit.
This week we were blessed with The Tyrant. This little guy is a sixth grader who came to us with a behavior file that boggled the mind. He is a piece of work. Has a hair trigger temper, refuses to do anything he does not want to do, and is angry with the world.
Oh yay.
The first day he was out with us I had to call Admin to come remove him as he would not be quiet, would not stay in his seat, and absolutely utterly refused to do his assignments (he'd throw them at me). When Coach Cool asked him to get his backpack, he screamed "NO!" and went home with out it.
The second day was pretty much a repeat of the first but slightly better. I didn't have to call to have him removed until later in the day. (Keep in mind I rarely ever call to have a kid removed. It's just not something I usually have issues with but this kid...well, he's something else.)
Today was our third - and thankfully, last - day with The Tyrant. He was, amazingly, almost done with his work (even though it was crap) although he was getting very frustrated with math because he does not know his basic multiplication tables.
Today started out rough. There was some police activity in the neighborhood so Coach Cool had me relocate my classroom from Our Happy Little Portable into the building, into a room across from the library. We call it the reference room, but it's more like book storage combined with a meeting room. In any case, I wheeled in my cart with emergency supplies, computers, and files and camped out there for the day. It's not ideal, but it works. I only had four boys this morning, including The Tyrant, so it probably wouldn't be too bad until they started adding kids (which they usually don't when we're in the building, they wait until the following day).
Mrs. Sweet, the library aide who takes the kids to lunch, arrived from the library and took them down to the cafeteria to pick up their lunches while I have my 30 minutes duty free lunch. Ate lunch, checked our mail box for assignments, and headed back to our room, passing by the Librarian's desk.
And look across to see the lead custodian enter the room we were using with a bucket, rags, and a yellow "wet floor" sign.
"Oh crap," I asked her. "What's going on with my kids?"
"That little blonde one you have? He apparently lost his mind, started screaming at everyone, and started slinging mashed potatoes from his lunch all over MY room," The Librarian responded. Oh she was MAD. (And I don't blame her.)
I get to the room to find Mrs. Sweet and the Lead Custodian cleaning up the room, wiping down shelves, tables, chairs, and the rug. (Which was going to have to be shampooed tonight apparently).
Mrs. Sweet stood up, "I honestly don't know what happened or what I did. One minute he was fine, the next minute he's flipping the bird at the other kids, screaming and throwing mashed potatoes at them. Or maybe he was aiming at me. I really don't know. But he threw them everywhere."
I assured her that she didn't do anything, that the Tyrant flips his lid at the slightest provocation and there isn't anything we can do about it.
"So where is he?" I asked.
"The Enforcer came and got him," she said. "I had to call for an administrator before he tore the room apart."
Oh great. The Enforcer. Who is now The Principal.
So, I had the other kids write witness statements (more to keep them busy than anything else, but they LOVE witness statements) and pretty soon The Guidance Diva came by and told me that she'd just dropped The Tyrant's files off on The Enforcer's desk and that The Tyrant was perched on the arm of the chair like a little vulture waiting to pounce.
"That sounds like The Tyrant," I told her. "Are they finally suspending him?"
"Finally," she said. I'm sure his team will be delighted. It's nearly a daily occurrence having to have him removed from a classroom, but we can't do anything until a behavior plan is in place as he's identified as special education."
Well, he went three for three in my room. Three days in ISS, Three days removed from ISS.
And then there was the mashed potatoes.
Seriously. You can't make this stuff up.
Two days until break.
Wednesday, September 28, 2016
8 Weeks and Counting
Eight weeks into the first grading period.
And we still don't have a seventh grade science teacher.
But we do have a rather busy parade of substitute teachers, bless each and every one of them.
There are no applicants in the pool who are qualified and/or want the job.
I have a feeling this is just the beginning.
And we still don't have a seventh grade science teacher.
But we do have a rather busy parade of substitute teachers, bless each and every one of them.
There are no applicants in the pool who are qualified and/or want the job.
I have a feeling this is just the beginning.
A Family Affair
Today.
Nine kids total.
Three were sixth graders.
All with the same father.
All with different mothers.
Sigh.
Nine kids total.
Three were sixth graders.
All with the same father.
All with different mothers.
Sigh.
Saturday, September 24, 2016
Another View on Why Teachers are Leaving the Profession
As most of you know, we started the school year at The School, with two unfilled teaching positions. We are nearly finished with our first nine weeks grading period and we just, finally, filled one of the positions (a special education slot dealing with our kids with emotional and behavior issues) but the seventh grade science position is still open. Rumor has it there may be a candidate for it, but nothing concrete at this point.
So, I got to wondering if it was just my district (my building isn't the only one with open teaching positions) or the State, or what. So I started cruising some of the educational blogs and websites I read and stumbled across this gem.
You must read these.
I basically want to find this woman and hug her and scream, "Yes! What she said!" because she freaking NAILED IT.
Read these. Read them now.
Full Circle - Or When Your Big Brother Kicks Your Ass
About ten years ago I had a kid who just tore my room apart with his behavior. He was a mess. Smart as hell, but mouthy, and lazy and just off the chart disruptive. He spent a lot of time in ISS and suspended and generally broke my heart because I knew he had it in him to be more than he was.
And then he went to high school, joined JROTC and it changed his life. His sophomore year he came back and apologized to me and his other teachers for being such a jerk when we had him (and that, my friends, in 14 years, is the only kid who has done that). We've kept in touch, mainly through FaceBook, and now he's in the military, engaged to a nice girl, and is doing great. The turnaround was remarkable.
In any case, last week, I got a call from Principal Cool that an 8th grader was coming my way for the day and I recognized the last name and realized it was my former student's little brother. When I opened the door and took one look at him, there was no doubt. They are dead ringers for each other.
"So you must be Former Brat's little brother," I say when I introduce myself. "I had him about ten years ago when I was teaching science."
"Oh he was horrid, wasn't he?" Little Brother said. "I remember my parents always getting on him for stuff in school. He's in New York now, He's in the Army" he volunteered.
So I get Little Brother processed, get him to his station, he gets out his work (a much better student than his big brother was, I noted) and he gets to work after we talk a bit about why he was there and how his grades were doing.
And then I sent Former Brat a message telling him that his little brother had landed in my room. I figured he was at work, but thought he'd read it at lunch or something.
Ten minutes later, my phone dings. I look at the screen. "What's your phone number?" was what it said.
Oh boy. Someone is gonna get a phone call. I texted it back and five minutes later the phone rings.
"Hey, Mrs. Bluebird, it's Former Brat," he says. (It still cracks my up how my boys voices change so much after seventh grade).
"Well, gosh, it's nice to hear from you. Just wish it hadn't been under these circumstances," I respond.
"Can I talk to Little Brother please?" he says.
"Of course," I say, and I hand Little Brother the phone.
The look on his face was priceless. The look on the other kids' faces was nearly as good as you could almost read their minds. (Crap! She knows his older brother? Wonder if she knows mine?)
Little Brother then spent about ten minutes on the phone getting his ass chewed out by his big brother (whom it was quite apparent he idolizes). He was not enjoying the conversation at all. At the end he handed it back to me.
"He wants to talk to you," he said.
So we chatted a bit, he wanted me to text him a report at the end of the day about Little Brother, and said our goodbyes.
I looked at Little Brother.
"Got your butt chewed, eh?" I said.
"Yeah," he responded. "You didn't hear that did you? Because if you did, I'm sorry. He drops the F-bomb a lot,"
"No, we didn't hear that," I assured him.
"Are you gonna tell him I was good?" he asked.
"Maybe. Depends on if you are or not."
"I'm gonna be," he said. "He's gonna call Dad tonight, too."
Little Brother was awesome. Former Brat got a text. I even told Little Brother, on his way out the door at the end of the day, that he was a lot better than Former Brat ever had been.
That earned me a smile, and dang, if he didn't look just like his older brother with that big toothy grin!
And then he went to high school, joined JROTC and it changed his life. His sophomore year he came back and apologized to me and his other teachers for being such a jerk when we had him (and that, my friends, in 14 years, is the only kid who has done that). We've kept in touch, mainly through FaceBook, and now he's in the military, engaged to a nice girl, and is doing great. The turnaround was remarkable.
In any case, last week, I got a call from Principal Cool that an 8th grader was coming my way for the day and I recognized the last name and realized it was my former student's little brother. When I opened the door and took one look at him, there was no doubt. They are dead ringers for each other.
"So you must be Former Brat's little brother," I say when I introduce myself. "I had him about ten years ago when I was teaching science."
"Oh he was horrid, wasn't he?" Little Brother said. "I remember my parents always getting on him for stuff in school. He's in New York now, He's in the Army" he volunteered.
So I get Little Brother processed, get him to his station, he gets out his work (a much better student than his big brother was, I noted) and he gets to work after we talk a bit about why he was there and how his grades were doing.
And then I sent Former Brat a message telling him that his little brother had landed in my room. I figured he was at work, but thought he'd read it at lunch or something.
Ten minutes later, my phone dings. I look at the screen. "What's your phone number?" was what it said.
Oh boy. Someone is gonna get a phone call. I texted it back and five minutes later the phone rings.
"Hey, Mrs. Bluebird, it's Former Brat," he says. (It still cracks my up how my boys voices change so much after seventh grade).
"Well, gosh, it's nice to hear from you. Just wish it hadn't been under these circumstances," I respond.
"Can I talk to Little Brother please?" he says.
"Of course," I say, and I hand Little Brother the phone.
The look on his face was priceless. The look on the other kids' faces was nearly as good as you could almost read their minds. (Crap! She knows his older brother? Wonder if she knows mine?)
Little Brother then spent about ten minutes on the phone getting his ass chewed out by his big brother (whom it was quite apparent he idolizes). He was not enjoying the conversation at all. At the end he handed it back to me.
"He wants to talk to you," he said.
So we chatted a bit, he wanted me to text him a report at the end of the day about Little Brother, and said our goodbyes.
I looked at Little Brother.
"Got your butt chewed, eh?" I said.
"Yeah," he responded. "You didn't hear that did you? Because if you did, I'm sorry. He drops the F-bomb a lot,"
"No, we didn't hear that," I assured him.
"Are you gonna tell him I was good?" he asked.
"Maybe. Depends on if you are or not."
"I'm gonna be," he said. "He's gonna call Dad tonight, too."
Little Brother was awesome. Former Brat got a text. I even told Little Brother, on his way out the door at the end of the day, that he was a lot better than Former Brat ever had been.
That earned me a smile, and dang, if he didn't look just like his older brother with that big toothy grin!
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